


(you’re my) playground love

by sopaloma



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, betts and jug secretly get married in high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-16 19:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sopaloma/pseuds/sopaloma
Summary: His hands wrap around her hips as he pulls her down into his lap. She smiles, slides one arm around his shoulders as she continues to clean his face.“Marry me.”His voice is soft, quiet, and Betty’s so sure she’s misheard him. Her eyes snap to his.“What did you just say?”AU. Betty and Jughead secretly get married in high school.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> title from Air, “Playground Love”
> 
> some back story: i started writing this before episode 8, so FP hadn’t forced jug out of the serpents. for the sake of this story, please pretend that jughead remained in the gang with his dad. also, jug has repeatedly tried to break up/has broken up with betty to keep her ‘safe’. so kinda canon
> 
> this first chapter is kind of cheesy but there is some angst in future chapters. strap in, i guess?

Betty is sneaking out through her window before she even has time to fully process what Jughead’s text means.

_I know it’s late but please come to the trailer. I got out. I need you._

Her heart is racing as she pulls out of her street and onwards to the Sunnyside park. They had discussed him leaving the Serpents many times over the last year but she had assumed he would just stick it out until college, when he moved away to New York and left this town and the gang behind. She hadn’t expected it to happen so soon - wasn’t even sure that he _could_ leave the gang when he was still living in Riverdale. But now he had and Betty felt sick as she considered the possible consequences he might face.

Jughead swings the trailer door open before she’s even reached the first step, his face bloody and swollen, but a smile pulling at the corner of his bruised lips.

“Oh, Juggie,” she breathes, throwing her arms around his neck.

“I got out,” he murmurs, tightening his arms around her waist. “I actually got out.”

He waits obediently on a kitchen chair as Betty gathers medical supplies, his eyes following her every move. He hisses as she presses the cotton ball against the wound above his eyebrow but there’s still a hint of smile. He looks almost delirious.

Betty frowns as she tilts his chin up, inspecting the damage.

“What the hell was this? Some kind of farewell ceremony?”

“Something like that,” he replies. “I think it’s supposed to scare me into staying loyal.”

“Did you know they were going to do this?”

He shrugs. “I had an idea. Toni mentioned one of Sweet Pea’s brothers getting the same treatment before he left town.”

“So you knew and you didn’t tell me?!” Betty cries, grasping his chin in her hand. He winces as she presses against his bruised jaw but she’s too annoyed to apologize, just loosens her grip. “I can’t believe you, Jug! We’ve been talking about you leaving for months now and never told me that this was what you had planned.”

“Because I knew you’d try to stop me!” he argues. “You would have tried to come up with another solution and it wouldn’t have worked. This was the only way, Betts.”

Betty sighs but doesn’t disagree with him. She definitely would have tried to stop him and it’s very likely that this was the Serpents’ only accepted form of resignation.

“You still should have told me,” she mutters, dabbing at his eye again.

“I know,” he says softly, “and I’m sorry.”

He reaches for wrist then, pulling her hand away from his jaw and holding it in his own. His squeezes her fingers.

“I love you, so much,” he says, eyes meeting hers. “You know that, right?”

“I love you, too, Jug,” she answers, the way she always has and always will.

“I mean it, Betts.” His voice is firmer now, serious, but his bloodshot eyes are strangely soft as he looks up at her. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. You’re the most important part of my life.”

“Juggie,” she whispers before she leans down to brush a kiss against his lips.

His hand reaches up, fingers tangling in her hair. She can taste blood on his lips but she doesn’t care. There are few things that keep her away from his kiss.

He rests his forehead against hers when he pulls away, the strange little smile still tugging at his lips. She gets back to work, dipping the cotton in more solution.

“Well it doesn’t look like anything’s broken,” she observes. “Thank God you’re still handsome,” she teases and he laughs softly.

His hands wrap around her hips as he pulls her down into his lap. She smiles, slides one arm around his shoulders as she continues to clean his face.

“Marry me.”

His voice is soft, quiet, and Betty’s so sure she’s misheard him. Her eyes snap to his.

“What did you just say?”

“Marry me,” he repeats, louder.

“Jug, come on. Be serious,” she says, laughing slightly.

“I am,” he states. “This whole mess with the Serpents and my dad and fucking Penny Peabody - it’s made me realize how grateful I am for all the good in my life. For you.”

She smiles. “And that’s very sweet, Juggie, but I don’t need you to propose to me to make me believe that.”

“I’m not proposing because of that,” he argues. “I’m proposing because I love you and I want to be married to you.”

“You sure you haven’t got a concussion, babe?” she laughs.

“You seriously don’t believe me, do you?” he asks, sounding amused.

“No. I don’t.” She stands to retrieve some butterfly stitches before applying them to the deepest of his wounds.

“I’ll show you, Betty Cooper.”

She snorts. “Okay, Jug.”

She presses a kiss against his temple when she’s finished applying the stitches.

“Alright, that’s you all cleaned up. Now I have to go.”

“Do you really?” he asks, arms around her hips again, pulling her to stand between his legs.

“Yes. I really do. If my mom finds me gone she’ll go crazy.” She kisses him, pulling away before he can deepen it. “Get some sleep. And call me in the morning when you’re not full of crazy ideas.”

“They’re not crazy,” he retorts. “They’re romantic.”

“Okay, Romeo.” She kisses him again, quickly, before grabbing her car keys from the counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you,” he calls as she opens the door.

She grins over her shoulder. “Love you, too,” she calls back before climbing into her car.

Now she just had to sneak back in without her parents noticing.

 

 

 

 

With the weight of the Serpents lifted from his shoulders, Jughead can focus on the important things in his life; his friends, his dad, getting into college, _Betty_.

No longer being a Serpent meant that he could just be with her without worrying if she would get hurt or if they would fight because of a decision he had made. His time in the gang had brought so much conflict in their relationship and he was so happy to see it gone. The beginning of their relationship - before Clifford Blossom’s suicide, and the gang, and the Black Hood - had been supportive and nurturing, and he couldn’t wait to get that back.

But now he wanted that and _more_. He wanted her to be his wife.

He knew she thought he was joking that night in the trailer, as she tended to his wounds with an unmistakable look of relief on her pretty face. It had been so long since he’d seen her soft features unmarred by the pinch of worry and fear. Worry for him and fear that he would try to leave her again when things became too much.

She didn’t need to worry anymore. He loved her, he always would. He knew that without a doubt. If his time in the Serpents had taught him anything, it was that he needed to appreciate the good in his life and she was a shining beacon of goodness. No one was better than Betty. No one else had stuck with him through all of it, no matter how many times he tried to push her away. She was always the best part of any day and he wanted that forever. Wanted _her_ forever.

His decision is cemented when he returns to school the Tuesday after his departure from the gang. He’d taken Monday off, face too swollen and body too sore, in no fit state to be attending school. Betty picks him up on Tuesday morning in her new car - an early birthday present from her parents - and leans across the console to give him a soft, careful kiss when he climbs inside.

“Are you ready?” she asks, tracing her finger across his bruised cheek.

“As I’ll ever be.”

People stare as they walk through the hallway. He’d expected it but it doesn’t make him feel any less self-conscious. Betty squeezes his hand a little tighter, gives him a reassuring smile. She’s here, like always.

They find the others in the break room, gathered on the sofas, chatting and sipping coffee. They have ten minutes before first period and Jughead thinks it best to get the questions out of the way.

Veronica sees him first, a gasp escaping her.

“Jughead! Your face.”

He smiles weakly. “Guess my modelling aspirations are over.”

“Are you okay, man?” Archie asks as he settles into an armchair, Betty perched on the arm.

“I’m fine,” Jughead assures him. “It looks worse than it is.”

That’s not entirely true but he doesn’t want Archie to worry. The pain would disappear in a few days and the bruising would fade eventually.

“I think we should address the elephant in the room,” Betty declares and all eyes turn to her. “Jughead is out of the Serpents. For good. So from now on we’re not gonna talk about them unless he brings them up first. That part of his life is over. We all need to move on.”

Her voice is clear and authoritative, leaving no room for argument. He leans into her, his hand curling around her hip. She’s said what he couldn’t. He had been mentally preparing himself to deal with everyone’s prying questions, when all he really wanted to do was put the Serpents behind him and never think about them again. He knew that wouldn’t happen now. Betty’s instructions were clear and nobody was going to fight her. Except for maybe Kevin, who lived for gossip and juicy details, but he knows she can handle him.

There’s a moment of stunned silence before everyone jumps back into their previous conversations - anxiety over the upcoming test, details from Cheryl’s party on Saturday night. Betty reaches up to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, the strands poking out beneath his hat. It’s a soothing gesture, one that relaxes him and also makes him feel close to her, even in this room full of people.

His chest is warm and he feels protected in a way he doesn’t think he ever has. The Serpents had protected him when he needed it, with anger and threats and violence. But Betty protected him with love, fierce and strong.

He fights the urge to close his eyes in contentment and relaxes into the chair. The bell wouldn’t ring for a few minutes. He could enjoy this, enjoy her, for a little longer.

When he gets home that night, he rummages through his dad’s wardrobe until he finds a box of his mother’s things, left behind, stashed in the back. It contained something he needed.

 

 

 

 

It’s late when she hears the tap at her window. Her eyebrows knit together as she pulls herself from the warmth of her bed. She tiptoes across to her window, not wanting to wake her parents, and a little laugh escapes her as she sees Jughead’s cold, pink face behind the glass.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers as she slides it open. “It’s so late.”

“I wanted to see you.” His smile is soft and his eyes are glinting with mischief. He definitely had ulterior motives. “Can I get a kiss?”

She rolls her eyes, lips quirked up in amusement before she presses them to his. He hums against her mouth, content, his hands pressing into the small of her back, drawing her closer.

“Why are you really here, Juggie?” she asks quietly, hands resting against his chest. “We have school tomorrow. I need to sleep.”

“And you will,” he replies. “But I have something I need to ask you first. It couldn’t wait.” His hand slips into the pocket of his jacket.

She raises one brow. “What could possibly be that important?”

“This,” he answers, lifting up a small, black box.

Betty’s lips part in shock, her eyes widening as she stares at the box.

“Jughead... is that...”

“An engagement ring.” He lifts the lid, revealing a slim silver band with a small diamond in the center. “It was my mom’s.”

“It’s beautiful,” she breathes out, her eyes then darting up to his. “Jughead, you can’t- This is crazy. You can’t...” She trails off, struggling to articulate her protests.

“Can’t what? Propose to you?” He smiles, amused. “I already did, Betts. Or did you forget?”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” she whispers. As ridiculous as they were, his words that night still made her feel warm and tingly.

“Good. Because I meant them.” He cups her cheek with his free hand, smoothes his thumb across her cheekbone as he focuses on her. “I love you, Betty. I have for a long time. And all of the pain we went through when I was in the Serpents, when I was trying to push you away, made me realize just how much.” He releases a shaky breath. “You and me - we’re meant to be together, Betts. I can’t be with anyone else.”

“Me neither,” she replies honestly, because she truly can’t. “But that doesn’t mean we should get married, Jug. At least, not now.”

“Why not?” he asks. “What’s the difference between now and a few years from now? We’ll still love each other just the same.”

“Because we don’t have jobs or money or a home, or any of the things you’re supposed to have when you get married,” she argues, her voice now a harsh whisper.

“But we will have it. One day. And until then, we can work together to build a good life for ourselves.”

He sounds so confident, so convinced by his own rationale. And while she also sees a good future for them, together, she knows it’s going to take a lot of work. Building a life is hard, being an adult is hard, and they haven’t even started college yet. She’s still seventeen!

“You do realize none of this matters, right? Because legally we can’t get married. I’m not eighteen yet.”

“But you will be in two weeks,” he argues, smirking.

She tries to smother her amusement. “You’ve got this all figured out, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” he answers simply. “Which is why you should stop fighting me. You know you want to marry me as much as I want to marry you.”

“That’s beside the point,” she says and watches the way his face lights up at her almost-declaration. “This insane, Juggie. People don’t get married this young. Not anymore.”

“So let’s be the exception.”

She feels like she’s fighting a losing battle. Every argument she has, he has an answer. He’s clearly spent a lot of time thinking about this, thinking about marrying her.

She knows it’s stupid but that thought makes her heart clench and her stomach do somersaults.

“Haven’t you done enough reckless things, recently? I thought you’d stop now that you’re no longer a Serpent.”

“This isn’t reckless,” he replies. “Making you my wife would be the smartest decision I’ve ever made.”

She both hates and loves him like this. Before they were together, when they were just childhood friends, she had never imagined he could be this _charming_. And of course it makes her melt, almost swooning like she’s in a novel, but it’s really not fair. He’s introverted and moody and shy. He’s not supposed to be this persuasive.

Then again, she’s always brought out other sides of him; sides he doesn’t let anyone else see.

There’s a pregnant pause as she considers her options. She could do the right thing, the smart thing, the choice her parents would approve of. She could be the good girl she’s supposed to be and tell her boyfriend that he’s being dumb and of course they can’t get married while they’re still in high school.

But she has another option, too. The option to throw caution to the wind and be impulsive, do what makes her feel good, what would make her really, really happy.

She chooses option B.

“Okay,” she smiles, stepping back and raising her chin. “So ask me again.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Seriously?”

She nods, eyebrows raised. “Seriously.”

He gets down on one knee, box in hand, his face brighter and more beautiful than she’s ever seen it, as he asks, “Elizabeth Cooper, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she answers instantly, a little laugh escaping her as she says it. “I will.”

He pulls the ring from the box and rises to his feet, slides it onto the fourth finger of her right hand.

“It’s the other hand, Jug,” she giggles and watches as he fumbles to slide it off and onto the correct finger.

“Shit, sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she grins and cups his face between her palms. The cool metal of the ring presses against his cheek and tears well up in Betty’s eyes at the image. “I love you,” she murmurs.

“I love _you_.”

”I can’t believe we’re actually going to get married,” she giggles.

He kisses her then, arms looped tight around her waist, body flush against hers. The sweet innocence of the celebratory kiss soon becomes heated, passionate. The caress of his tongue against hers lights a fire low in her belly and she has to pull back before they get carried away.

Her forehead rests against his, breath ghosting across his neck as she murmurs, “My parents are in the next room.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath and buries his face in her hair briefly before pulling back. He cups her neck and kisses her again. “Do you think you could come over this weekend? My dad’s not around. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“Yeah. I can get V to cover for me.”

“Great,” he grins and stamps another kiss against her mouth. “I should probably go but I really don’t want to leave you.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles, hands smoothing across his chest. “We’ll see each other tomorrow.”

“Are you gonna wear it to school?” he asks, taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb across the ring.

“Not yet,” she responds. “We should probably tell everybody first.”

“Okay,” he says softly in agreement, but she can see a hint of disappointment on his face.

She kisses him softly. “I’ll wear it on a chain around my neck, so I still have it with me.”

He smiles at that and kisses her one last time before climbing about the window. Betty climbs back under her covers, hands beneath her cheek as she settles. The ring presses into her skin, a reminder of what just happened, that yes, Jughead had actually just become her fiancé.

She closes her eyes, falls asleep with a smile on her face.

 

 

 

 

Archie and Veronica’s faces are totally blank, frozen in a state of confusion. Betty shifts uncomfortably on the plastic of the booth seat, unsure of what to say. Jughead squeezes her hand beneath the table.

“Are you guys ok-“ Jughead begins but Veronica cuts him off.

“Are you pregnant?” she asks, looking at Betty. “Because it isn’t the ‘50s, Betty. You don’t need to marry him just because you’re having a baby.”

“I’m not pregnant,” she assures Veronica. “We just... want to get married.”

“You _want_ to get married?” Archie repeats. “At _eighteen_?”

Jughead frowns. “Look, Arch, we know we’re young but this really is what we want. Can’t you respect that?”

“We do respect that,” Veronica answers instead. “But you need to respect what a huge decision this is. Marriage is a big deal.”

“We know that,” Jughead replies, a hint of frustration entering his tone. Betty rubs her hand along his forearm. “And we’re fully committed. This is truly what both of us want.”

There’s a beat of silence before Veronica sighs.

“You know what - I support you. If this is for real, then I’m with you.”

“ _You are?_ ” Betty and Archie ask at the same time.

Veronica shrugs. “I know I may come off as an ice queen but I adore a good love story. Sue me.”

“And you, Arch?” Jughead asks. “Are you with us?”

“You’re my best friends and if this is what you really want, then yeah... I’m with you.”

Jughead smiles, some of the tension he’d been feeling leaving his body.

“So what’s the plan?” Veronica asks. “You can’t get married until you’re eighteen without parental consent and there’s no way Mama Cooper is letting you shack up with your man.”

“Well it’s my birthday next week, so we were thinking about going to City Hall the week after.”

“You’re getting married in _two weeks_?” Archie asks, shocked. He runs his hand through his hair. “Jesus. This is a lot of information to take in.”

“Hey, man. I’m the one getting married. Shouldn’t I be feeling the commitment-phobia?” Jughead jokes.

“Do you even have a dress? And what about your parents? Are you going to tell them you’re getting married?” Veronica questions, clearly thinking of all the implications.

“Yes, I have a dress. Something simple that I bought today. And we’re not telling our parents. At least, not until graduation,” Betty answers.

“When we’re in college, in a whole other city, there’s not much they can do about it,” Jughead reasons. “We’re getting a place together anyway. Marriage is the logical next step.”

It’s the next logical step when you’re in your twenties and you have a steady job, but Veronica knows arguing is pointless. They’ve already made up their minds.

“And until then? Are you just going to continue living with your parents and going to school as if you’re still boyfriend and girlfriend, when you’re actually husband and wife?”

Veronica can hear the rising hysteria in her tone but this is just so crazy, and neither of them seem phased by the gravity of their situation.

“That’s exactly what’s going to happen,” Jughead responds. “It’s unconventional but it’s the easiest way. And then in five months, after graduation, when we’re no longer living under the spectre of our parents, we’ll tell them.”

“So why not wait?” Archie asks. “Like you said, you’re leaving for college in five months. Why not get married then?”

“Because we don’t want to wait that long. We want to do this now,” Betty replies, leaning into Jughead.

It’s quiet again, a strange tension settling over the table. Veronica’s face softens slightly, mouth no longer a harsh, disapproving line.

“I said I’d support you, so that’s what I’m going to do. But just let me say this - if you’re having to keep your marriage a secret, then maybe that’s a sign you shouldn’t be doing this.”

Betty reaches across the table to take Veronica’s hand in hers. “I appreciate your concern, V, I really do. But this is happening. We are getting married.”

Veronica’s lips lift into a small smile. “Then I guess we have some planning to do.”

 

 

 

 

The Saturday they get married is cold and dry, a chill in the air and the sky turned white with the threat of snow.

Betty wraps her coat tighter around her body as they climb the stairs to City Hall, the wind whipping through her carefully pinned updo. Veronica is fussing over her as soon as they are inside, fixing her hair and brushing powder across her cheeks.

“While I’m horrified that you’re getting married in a dress that cost you less than a hundred dollars,” she says, disapproval coloring her tone, “you are a sight for sore eyes, B. Jughead’s not gonna know what’s hit him.”

Betty smiles and shrugs out of her coat, drapes it across Veronica’s outstretched arm.

“No wrinkles?” she asks, smoothing her hands across the cream lace fabric of her dress and doing a little spin.

“You’re perfect.”

Betty doesn’t even bristle at the word. Veronica had spent the better part of the morning making her look beautiful and when she had looked in the mirror, she truly did feel it. She thinks the excitement of the day, of the commitment she’s about to make, is what is really making her feel so pretty. She had never really thought about women _glowing_ until she saw her reflection.

“Ready?” Veronica asks, passing her the small bouquet she’d had her butler fetch that morning.

Betty nods. “Ready.”

As they enter the reception she spots Jughead immediately, dressed up in the only suit he owns, pacing in front of a similarly-dressed Archie who is slumped in a visitor’s chair. Archie sees her first, wide smile stretching across his face as he takes her in. He hits Jughead’s arm with the back of his hand, nods towards them when he looks up, and a flutter of excitement passes through her belly when their eyes meet.

She can see the bob of his throat as he swallows thickly, gaze never leaving her as she approaches.

“You look incredible,” he says softly, hands immediately finding her waist.

She smiles, runs her hand through his hair - free from his usually-present beanie and brushed back neatly.

“So do you.”

“I’ve already registered us and I’ve got the rings. Veronica just needs to sign in and then we’re set.”

Veronica fills out the necessary paperwork, declaring herself as a witness, and then joins them again as they stand outside the main hall.

The officiator arrives and Jughead’s hand slips into hers. He lifts them, presses a kiss against the back of her hand.

“I’m so happy we’re doing this, Betts.”

She smiles, strokes her thumb across his skin.

“Me, too, Juggie.”

 

 

 

 

With their bellies full of burgers and fries and milkshakes, they leave Veronica and Archie at Pop’s and head to the trailer. It was a non-traditional wedding reception, like the wedding itself, but Jughead wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Sharing a booth at the diner with their best friends - giggling and eating and reminiscing - had been fun and sweet, and had reminded him of a time not too long ago, after the jubilee. Except now things had changed, the evidence of one of the more major changes adorning their ring fingers.

He holds the door to the trailer open for her, pleased by the pretty smile she gives him at the gesture. The trailer is, thankfully, empty, his dad away for the weekend on Serpent business. Jughead hadn’t asked what he was doing; he never does anymore.

“I got us some champagne,” he says, retrieving the bottle from the fridge and grabbing two flutes he’d borrowed from Veronica for the night.

“How did you get this?” Betty asks with a raised brow, taking one of the flutes from him.

“I may have kept the fake ID the Serpents gave me,” he replies as he pours the champagne. He raises his flute and smiles. “A toast to us, Mrs. Jones.”

A light blush spreads across Betty’s smiling face. “I like the sound of that.”

He taps his glass against hers. “Me, too.”

One small glass is enough. Neither of them have a taste for alcohol and Jughead wants to be clear-headed, to enjoy their evening.

Jughead draws Betty close, hands around her waist, and kisses her softly. She smiles against his lips, one of so many smiles she’s given him today, and he relishes in it the way he did all of the others.

He knows that if they were older, if they didn’t need to keep their marriage a secret, this night would be very different. There would be a reception, warm congratulations, dancing. There would be a celebration of their union.

Instead, they’re in his father’s trailer, sipping champagne from borrowed glassware, while Betty’s parents buy the lie that she’s staying with her best friend for the night. It’s not exactly the dream.

He rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed, hands smoothing a path from her waist to her hips and back again.

“I know this probably isn’t the wedding day you dreamed of as a little girl,” he murmurs, unable to hide the shame in his voice.

Betty is quiet, fingers stroking the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You know, I never really fantasized about my wedding day,” she begins. She pulls away to meet his eye, expression soft. “And now that I’m here, I’m glad. Because never, in my most elaborate daydreams, could I have imagined a husband as handsome, and sweet, and as kind as you.”

He swallows the lump that has formed in his throat, feels the moisture well in his eyes. The softness of his expression reminds her of another night in this very trailer, his quiet declaration of love the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. He looks so happy, so beautiful, and like he never thought he would ever be in love.

He kisses her then, a slow, delicious kiss that makes her tingle and sigh, a warmth settling low in her belly.

She pulls away, lips only a breath apart as she says, “Let’s go to bed, Juggie.”

 

 

 

 

Their first three weeks as a married couple are as non-traditional as their wedding day. They go to school all week, sharing secret smiles, rings hanging close to their chest beneath their clothes. There’s a new special kind of intimacy borne out of their secret. Jughead feels both proud and amazed that the girl who holds his hand in the hallways is actually his wife.

The weekend is their favorite time. They spend every second they can together from the last bell on Friday until Sunday evening, always under the guise of a sleepover at Veronica’s or Kevin’s.

Those days are spent in the trailer, experiencing normal domesticity as they cook for one another, and talk about their week, and study or just hang out. Some days they go for trips in Jughead’s truck, driving out of town to spend time in a place where nobody knows them and they can wear their rings freely without the worry of being discovered.

Jughead worries about his dad’s business in the gang but selfishly, he’s also never been so happy that his dad is always out of town and he has the trailer to himself.

It is truly a honeymoon period, where everything seems so right and good that they can’t imagine anything feeling better than this. It’s a strange concept to them both, to feel this happy so consistently. They live in a little bubble, enjoying the chance to be like any other married couple.

But of course, bubbles burst.

Betty blinks the sleep out of her eyes as she wakes, unsure if she is imagining the image of her mother, sat at her vanity, watching her sleep.

“Mom?” she asks, a frown settling over her features. She props herself up on her elbow. “What’s wrong? Why are you in my room?”

It is then that she notices the look on her mother’s face, the coldness in her eyes and the harsh line of her mouth.

“What is that around your neck, Elizabeth?”

Her voice is like ice, raising all of the hairs on the back of her neck. Panicked, Betty clutches at her chest, grasps at the chain hanging in front of her tank top. Her hand closes around her rings, pulse spiking.

She always took the chain off before she went to sleep, locked it safely in her jewellery box. She never forgot.

Except she had.

“I asked you a question,” her mother repeats. “What is that around your neck?”

 


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part deux. i’m blown away by the response to this! thank you so much

“Mom, please don’t-“

“Don’t what?” her mother snaps, cutting her off. “Don’t get mad because my teenage daughter has gotten married? Don’t get upset that my child has gone behind my back and totally betrayed my trust?”

Betty swallows thickly. “Mom, please.”

“What do you want me to say, Betty?” she asks, voice rising in volume. “What exactly did you think was going to happen when we found out about this?”

Betty doesn’t know how to answer. She knew her parent’s - particularly her mother’s - reaction wouldn’t be good, but she hadn’t given it much thought. It was short-sighted and naive on her part, but she has been so convinced that they could keep things secret until graduation that she hadn’t anticipated the alternative.

“Why would you do this, Betty? You have your whole life ahead of you, a bright future. Why would you marry that boy?”

“ _That boy_ ,” Betty retorts, anger piqued by her mother’s tone, “is my husband. And you can’t talk about him like that.”

Alice scoffs. “Your _husband_? You’re a child, Elizabeth! You both are.”

“You’re being such a hypocrite,” Betty yells. “You and dad got married at nineteen.”

“We were out of high school!” Alice yells back. “Your father had a job, an apartment. Do not even _think_ to compare our situations.”

Betty snorts. Low, she mutters, “Right, I forgot. You were knocked up so marriage at nineteen was perfectly okay. Preferable, probably. Didn’t want to embarrass the Cooper family.”

Alice’s fury dissipates into cold steel, her eyes narrowing into slits. Betty knows she’s crossed a line, bringing up her parent’s first baby, the sibling she’s never met and the child her mother longs for.

“How _dare_ you.” Alice stands, closes the distance between them. “Is it not enough that you’ve have disrespected your father and I, lied to us repeatedly?”

Betty doesn’t know how to respond, just sits in silence, eyes falling to her duvet. She can’t meet her mother’s eyes right now, can’t face the fury and sadness.

“If you think you’re living in this house while you’re treating us like this - making huge life decisions behind our back without a single thought about the consequences - then you’re wrong.”

Betty’s head snaps up. “What... What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you can no longer live in this house,” her mother answers, voice controlled, emotionless. There are tears in her eyes though, shining in the morning light filtering through the window. “If you’re grown up enough to get married, then you’re capable of finding somewhere else to live.”

Panic washes over Betty as realization dawns. She was kicking her out. Her mother was actually kicking her out of her home.

“Dad will never let you do this,” Betty protests weakly, but she’s not even sure if it’s the truth.

“You’ve decided you’re an adult now, Betty, and adults don’t live with their parents.” Alice raises her chin defiantly. “I’m going out. You have an hour to pack your stuff. I expect you to be out of this house by 9am.”

Her mother sweeps out of the room, leaving Betty behind, heartbroken and panicked on her bed. She reaches for her phone with shaking fingers, calls Jughead.

“Morning, Betts.”

“Juggie,” she says quietly, voice cracking. “I need you to come get me.”

“Betty?” he asks, concerned. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“My mom knows, Jug, and she’s kicked me out. I have an hour to pack up my stuff and leave.”

Jughead exhales heavily into the receiver.

“I’ll bring the truck over in ten.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jughead and Archie carry the last boxes into the trailer as Veronica wraps her arm around Betty, running a comforting hand along her arm.

“It’ll be okay, B,” she assures her. “Your mom will come around eventually and until then you have us. We’ll be here to support you, no matter what.”

Betty nods, wiping away a stray near. “Thanks, V. That means a lot.”

They spend their morning moving stuff around in Jughead’s bedroom and unpacking Betty’s boxes. She had grabbed all of her clothes, school supplies and a handful of keepsakes, shoving them into boxes as quickly as possible. She had been desperate to get out of that house and away from her mother.

Veronica and Archie leave them around lunchtime, surrounding Betty in tight hugs before they go home. When they’re alone, Jughead collapses against the couch and tugs Betty by the hand until she falls into his lap.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. “I mean, obviously you’re not, but... are you feeling a little better, now that you’ve moved in?”

“I guess,” she murmurs, with a shrug. “Are you sure your dad’s okay with me staying here?”

Jughead sighs. “He wasn’t exactly happy when I told him that we were married and that I had been lying to him for weeks. But he cares about you, Betts, and he wouldn’t leave you homeless.”

Betty nods, tears pricking her eyes as she thinks about her own parents turning their back on her. She knew they were mad, and she thinks they have every right to be, but did her mom really have to kick her out of her own home? And how could her dad just go along with it?

Then she thinks back to the day she found a pregnant Polly locked away from everyone in that depressing home, kept apart from her family and friends like some kind of shameful secret. Things had worked out eventually but their parents clearly had no problem casting their children aside when they made things difficult.

“Do you wanna get some food?” Jug asks, hand resting on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the inside. “We could go to Pop’s. Pick up some takeout for my dad, too.”

“Okay,” she reluctantly agrees, unsure if going out is such a good idea when all she wants to do is curl up into a ball and cry for a little while.

They head to the diner for a late lunch. True to form, Jughead combats the stress of their situation by eating two burgers and an extra helping of onion rings. Betty’s appetite isn’t so grand, and she sits quietly as she watches Jughead eat, sipping on a vanilla shake and picking at a basket of fries.

They’re curled up on the sofa, Betty enclosed in Jughead’s arms, when FP comes home.

“Hey, kids.” He kicks his boots off and enters the living room, offers Betty a small, sad smile. “How are you doing, Betty?”

“I’m okay, Mr Jones,” she answers, her own smile tight and unconvincing.

One corner of his mouth quirks up, reminding her of Jughead.

“Come on, Betty. You’re my daughter-in-law now. I think it’s about time you called me FP.”

It’s an olive branch, extended by a concerned father who just wants to help these kids who have made some very heavy choices.

Betty’s smile is more genuine this time and Jughead squeezes her waist, clearly pleased with his dad’s support.

“Thank you, FP.”

“There’s some Pop’s takeout in the kitchen,” Jughead tells his dad, who grins and pats his stomach.

“Just what I need after a hard day’s work.”

She doesn’t know what that work actually is and she knows Jughead doesn’t either. He no longer asks, staying as far away from Serpent business as he can. Betty is glad for it.

FP heats up his food and takes a seat on the armchair, settling in to eat his dinner while they watch a movie.

It’s a simple night, cosy despite the sadness that lingers. Betty supposes she needs to get used to this - it’s her new normal and would be for the next few months.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting into bed that night is weird. She and Jughead had slept in the same bed before - had done it almost every weekend over the past month - but as she climbed into her side that night, she realized that this was how it would always be from now on.

She rolls into Jughead’s side when he turns out the light, settling onto his chest. Her necklace catches on her hair and she sits up, attempting to adjust it.

“You know, you could just wear those now,” he points out as he looks down at the rings hanging in the center of the chain.

She runs her fingers along the bands.

“Are we going to tell everybody then? At school, I mean.”

“I think we have to. People are gonna want to know why we’re living together.”

Betty knows he’s right but the thought of telling everybody, of putting themselves in the firing line for criticism and mockery, makes her stomach tense up.

“Okay. Then I’ll wear them,” she agrees, and smiles genuinely as she slips the rings onto her finger. They had caused her a lot of pain and heartbreak that day, but she loved looking at them, loved what they symbolized.

Jughead slides his ring on, too, and then leans over to cup her cheek and press a firm kiss to her lips.

“I love you, Betty.”

She smiles. “I love you, too.”

They make out for a while, slow kisses that soon become more, Jughead settled between Betty’s legs, the heat of him pressing between her thighs. Behind the door, they hear the refrigerator close, and they freeze at the noise.

Jughead sighs, burying his face in Betty’s neck.

“Gonna have to get used to that,” he mutters and rolls onto his back beside her.

She smiles sympathetically and brushes his hair back from his face.

“Maybe we should just sleep tonight.”

He smiles in return and kisses her.

“Sleep sounds really good.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday is spent lazing around in the trailer, and finishing what they had started the night before when FP leaves and they are finally alone. It’s a relaxed day, all of the drama from the day before a fading memory, but before they know it, Monday has arrived.

As they pull into the school parking lot, Betty squeezes Jughead’s hand so tight his skin turns white. He pulls his fingers from her grip and takes her face between his palms.

“It’s gonna be okay, Betts,” he tells her firmly. “There will be rumors, no doubt, but give it a week and things will calm down. They’ll find something new to gossip about.”

Jughead is right in one respect - there are rumors. By the time second period has ended she has noticed the staring, the whispers, the pointed looks at her left ring finger and the rings adorning it.

Kevin drags her into the library before lunch.

“You’ll never believe the crazy things people are saying about you, Betty. I’ve heard that you’re pregnant, that you and Jughead have become Mormons, that Jughead is secretly rich and you’re trying to get your hands on his family’s fortune.” He folds his arm across his chest. “Now I _know_ none of that is true because there is no way my best friend would get married without telling me or inviting me to the wedding.” He then grabs her left hand and holds it in front of her face. “Oh, no, wait. _She did!_ ”

Betty sighs and pulls her hand out of his grasp.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but-“

“This is insane, Betty. You know what, right? I mean, we don’t live in Kentucky. People in New Jersey don’t _get_ married in high school. It just doesn’t happen. It’s ridic-“

“Yes, Kevin, I know! It’s ridiculous, it’s insane, it’s _crazy_ ,” she yells, tension and anxiety boiling over. “I’ve already heard all of the rumors and gossip and judgements. And I don’t need to hear it from you!”

Rant over, her chest heaves up and down, winded by her outburst. A morning of being the focus of the school’s rumor mill is more than she can handle. She has a whole new appreciation of what Cheryl went through after Jason’s death.

“Okay, okay,” Kevin says, softer. He reaches out to place a comforting hand against Betty’s arm, hoping to calm her down. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“I wanted to tell you, Kev, I really did. But we were trying to keep it a secret and it was already enough that V and Archie knew.”

“You told Ginger John Mayer before you told me?!” Kevin shouts, some of his earlier indignation returning. “I _cannot_ believe this.”

“They were our witnesses. They had to know.”

Kevin sniffs, chin raised. “Whatever. It’s gonna take me some time to forgive you for such a betrayal.”

His eyes slide over to her, an amused smile on his face, and Betty laughs for the first time that day. She falls back onto the table, body relaxing as the tension seeps out of her. Kevin takes a seat next to her, threads his fingers through hers.

“Are you happy, Betty?”

She smiles down at her lap, coy.

“Despite all of the drama with my parents... I am. I really, really am.”

Kevin nods once, decisive. “Then that’s all that matters.”

Betty rests her head against his shoulder, happy to have an ally. She needed all the support she could get.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They settle into married life.

Jughead gets a job at Pop’s, working in the kitchen, and Betty starts working in a garage. They make a small income between them and insist on giving FP money for rent. He’ll only accept a low amount, so Betty and Jughead make up the difference by helping out at home - Betty cooking and Jughead cleaning. The Jones men eat more home-cooked meals in Betty’s first month of living with them than they do all year.

As well as their jobs, they have school and the pressure of graduating on time. It’s a lot to juggle and the mounting responsibilities are initially overwhelming. But eventually, they fall into a natural routine - school, work, then dinner at home and their evenings together. It’s a comfortable pattern, one that makes them feel stable and like they’re finally getting the hang of this whole marriage thing.

Their weekends are for themselves. They both go to work on Saturday mornings and then the rest of their weekend is free for them to enjoy together. Sometimes they take trips into the city, sometimes they hang out with their friends, but mostly they spend time just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company.

They like hanging out by the river, stretched out across a picnic blanket, napping or reading. Or wandering through the stores in Greendale, linked hands swinging between them. They’re good at being alone, at being with each other, and they love their time together.

Polly comes to visit one weekend, the twins in tow. Less than a year old, they are beautiful and happy, two redheaded angels that Betty completely adores. Jughead loves seeing her with them, smothering them with affection. It makes him happy to know that even with the current tensions in her family, she still gets to experience that bond.

“How are you doing?” her hears Polly asks her as he makes coffee in the kitchen.

“I’m okay,” Betty answers. “It’s been... tough. But things are getting better.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to fight for you when Mom kicked you out.”

“Pol, come on. You moved out months ago. And you can’t always be around to fight my battles for me.”

“I know, but still.” Polly sighs. “You’re my little sister, Betty, and I want to be the person that protects you when things get hard.”

“I know you do, but you don’t need to be that person. Not anymore. I have Jughead now and he’ll always support me.”

Warmth blooms in his chest and a smile spreads across his face as he stirs sugar into Betty’s coffee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They get four weeks. Four weeks of comforting domesticity and living in their little newlywed bubble; of being unable to fathom that anything could ruin this time they have together.

But all honeymoon periods eventually come to an end.

They’re gathered in the kitchen, Jughead washing dishes as Betty researches financial aid options online.

“I’m definitely going to apply for this,” Betty tells him as she reads over the information her guidance counselor has sent to her. “Of all of the scholarships I’m eligible for, this seems like the best one.”

“That’s great, Betts. And I know you don’t really want to, but loans are also an option. You should look into that, too, just in case.”

Betty doesn’t reply, not entirely comfortable with the thought of borrowing so much money, but without the support of her parents, she knows it may be her only option if she still wants to attend NYU.

Jughead is putting away the last plate when the trailer door swings open and they hear a heavy thud in the living room. His brow furrows as he looks over at Betty.

“Dad?” he calls out as he heads towards the living room.

Betty follows him, gasping quietly when she enters the living room and sees FP lying on the ground, cheek pressed to the carpet.

“Jesus Christ, Dad,” Jughead groans and kneels down beside his father. He lifts his eyelids and runs a hand across his blotchy skin. He turns to Betty, grimacing. “He’s fucking wasted.”

“What? But he’s been sober for almost a year. I thought he was doing really well.”

“Yeah, so did I,” Jughead mutters, disappointment coloring his tone. He stands and hooks his hands beneath his dad’s arms. “Could you grab his feet, Betts? I need to get him onto the couch.”

Betty is frozen for a second, feeling totally unequipped for the situation. She rushes over and grabs onto FP’s ankles, lifting him as much as she is capable of. Carefully, they carry him over to the couch and lie him across it. He groans as he hits the cushions, a frown pinching his face.

“Jughead,” he moans, curling up against the back of the couch.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m here.” The disappointment is gone now, replaced with sadness. “What happened? Why have you been drinking?”

“She’s gone, Jug,” he says, voice cracking. Even through his slurred speech, Betty can hear the sorrow, the devastation. “She’s really gone.”

“Yes, I know. Mom’s been gone for a long time now,” Jughead responds as he begins to unlace his father’s boots.

FP begins to cry then, sobs wracking through his body as he wraps his arms around himself. There’s a strong smell emanating from him - the stench of hard liquor - and his clothes are stained with what she assumes is the same substance. It’s hard to look at him. Seeing him so vulnerable - almost weak, childlike - makes Betty feel uncomfortable. She’s never seen him like this.

Betty stands back against the wall, watching the scene. She isn’t sure what to do - should she should ask Jughead if he needs her help? Is it even her place or would he think she’s trying to interfere?

She stays silent, waiting. He pulls his dad’s boots off and throws a blanket over him, before rising to his feet.

“He always talks about her when he’s drunk,” he says as he leads her into the kitchen.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asks, worried, looking over her shoulder at FP’s now sleeping form.

“Yeah... he’ll be alright.” Jughead sounds so _tired_. Betty knows this isn’t easy for him. After so many months sober, this is a real blow. “Why don’t you go to bed? I’ve got some stuff I need to do.”

Betty washes her face, brushes her teeth, changes into her pajamas, all the while thinking of the unconscious man on the sofa. She’s heard stories about FP from Jughead, has listened to him rant and worry over his father’s worst habit and the mess he leaves behind whenever he drinks. It was strange to see it firsthand. She had felt helpless unprepared, yet Jughead had handled it easily. She wonders if it’s years of practice or if Jughead is just better at dealing with things.

When Jughead climbs into bed, he has an envelope in his hand.

“I guess this explains what happened tonight,” he says, passing it to her.

It’s divorce papers, from Jughead’s mother. After years of separation, of living in another state and leaving her old life behind, Gladys Jones had finally filed for divorce.

“I’m so sorry, Jug,” Betty murmurs, hand smoothing along his back as she rests her chin on his shoulder.

He just shrugs. “We all knew this was coming. I’m surprised she waited this long.”

Betty thinks he may be putting on a brave face but she doesn’t want to push him. If he wants to talk about it, he will.

She cups his neck, runs her thumb along the cord of muscle there, stretched tight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks quietly.

He nods, offers her a small smile. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Let’s sleep, Juggie.”

He falls asleep that night with his head nestled against Betty’s chest, her fingers combing through his hair. Soft snores leaves his mouth as he dreams but Betty lies awake, thoughts flickering between the two men in her home.

She knew that being with Jughead meant accepting all aspects of his life - the good and the bad - but it wasn’t until that night that she truly understood that the bad aspects were now part of her life, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty works out the kinks in her fingers, cracks her knuckles. Veronica sips on her herbal tea, taking a much-needed break from their studying.

“I hope all of this pays off. My dad will kill me if I get anything less than a B in English Lit.”

“You’ll ace it, V. You’re already so good at it and you’ve been studying so hard.”

“I know,” Veronica sighs. “It’s just, at this point, I feel like I’m reading the words on the page but I’m not actually taking them in. Like, it’s all become a blur and I’m not retaining a single bit of information.”

Betty snorts. “I know how that feels. I feel like all I’ve been doing for the past week is working and studying. I can’t wait until spring break.”

“Speaking of - do you and the hubby have any plans?” Veronica asks.

Betty shrugs. “Jug’s been having a hard time with his dad lately. We haven’t even talked about doing something over break. Why? What did you have in mind?”

“Well my parents still have their summer home in the Hamptons. I was thinking we could all go there for the break, spend a week by the pool, relaxing and drinking mimosas and eating whatever we want.”

“That sounds amazing,” Betty says with a wistful sigh. “But I don’t know if Jug will want to go.”

“Just think about it. You could always come alone while Jughead stays at home. Kevin will be solo, too.”

Betty considers that but she’s not sure. Jughead was going through a difficult time right now and she didn’t want to leave him alone when he was feeling so low. And while she was still very new to this marriage business, she thinks going on a week-long trips to the Hamptons is probably something she should be doing with her husband.

Still, she really needed a break. School had been kicking her ass lately.

“I’ll talk to Jug.”

They study late into the afternoon, books spread out across the coffee table and the floor. By early evening Veronica has had enough, throwing her head back against the couch as she groans.

“I’m done, B. I can’t do anymore.”

Betty orders Chinese takeout for them both and settles onto the sofa, a soapy reality show she doesn’t recognize playing on the TV.

“Is everything okay between you and Jughead?” Veronica asks, shifting her attention from the screen to Betty.

Betty frowns. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just seemed kind of down lately. And you mentioned Jughead’s dad earlier. I wondered if something was up.”

Betty is quiet, considering whether it’s appropriate to tell her what has been going on with FP.

“Things have been... difficult. FP isn’t in the best frame of mind at the moment and it’s really taking its toll on Jughead. When he’s not working or going to school, he’s taking care of his dad, and I know it’s wearing him down.”

“But the two of you - you’re okay, right?”

“I guess,” she shrugs. “I mean, is this the life I imagined for us when we got married? Definitely not.” She shakes her head. “I feel dumb for saying it, but I really didn’t consider all of the... _baggage_ that comes with being in a relationship. God knows I have plenty of my own, but when you marry someone, that baggage becomes yours, too. And that’s a lot to deal with.”

Veronica releases a heavy breath. “See, this is why I _know_ I’m not ready to be married. Archie doesn’t even have that much baggage and I still couldn’t handle it. I’m too selfish to take that on right now.”

“You’re not selfish, V,” Betty disagrees. “When Fred got shot you were really there for Arch. He never would have gotten through that time without you.”

Veronica seems slightly embarrassed by the praise; she still wasn’t entirely comfortable discussing her emotions or her relationship with Archie, even after almost two year together.

“Whatever,” she says dismissively. “All I’m saying is, you’re way more emotionally mature than I am. I’m impressed.”

“I’m not sure that’s true, but I’m trying to be.” She sighs, running a hand through her loose hair. “Marriage definitely isn’t how I thought it would be. I feel kind of... naive. Almost stupid. Definitely out of my depth. And I don’t like that feeling.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “B, you’re not stupid. How could you th-“

Veronica falls silent when they hear movement outside the trailer door.

Betty frowns. “Is the delivery guy here already?”

Jughead walks inside then, immediately pulling his beanie off his head.

“Hey, babe.” He smiles at her as he kicks off his shoes. “Hey, Ronnie. How’s it going?”

She grins. “Hey, Jug.”

Betty meets him by the door to kiss him, but he pulls back slightly before she can.

“Let me shower first, Betts. I smell like grease and onions.”

Her brow furrows. “Oh. Okay.”

He gives her a small smile as he walks off towards the bathroom but it feels off. Betty can feel the frown that remains on her face as she returns to the couch.

“What’s up?” Veronica asks.

“Do you think he heard us?” Betty replies, teeth scraping over her bottom lip.

“I don’t know. Why do you care? You didn’t say anything bad.”

“I guess...” Betty replies but she isn’t sure. Something like worry settles in her stomach, Jughead’s almost-rejection leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

His dad doesn’t get any worse, but he isn’t better either. He comes home drunk most nights, smelling of beer or something harder, footsteps heavy and speech slurred.

After years of dealing with his drunken father, he knows what to do, how to take care of him. But things are different now. Betty lives here, too, watching from the sidelines as he helps his dad onto the couch and forces him to eat and drink water. He doesn’t know what she thinks about it all; he doesn’t ever want to talk about the return of his dad’s habit, even though he knows he should.

It bothers her, that much is certain. Around the third consecutive week spent tending to his dad’s needs, Betty starts spending more time at the library, studying late into the night after her shift at work, and returning when his dad is already passed out on the sofa and Jughead is in bed. He never questions it, doesn’t ask her to come home earlier so that they can be together for a few hours in the evening. He just accepts her goodnight kiss and folds himself around her before her drifts off to sleep.

It’s around the fifth week that it begins to bother Jughead. Her conversation with Veronica - the one he wasn’t supposed to have heard - lingers in the back of his mind, her words ringing in his ears. _Marriage definitely isn’t how I thought it would be._

Part of him feels like a failure. It was his job, as her husband, to make Betty feel loved and happy. She knew he loved her, he didn’t doubt that, but she didn’t seem all that happy anymore. There was distance between them, apparent in the amount of time they now spent apart - a choice on Betty’s part - and the minimal contact they’d had with each other over the last few weeks. They hadn’t had sex in two weeks, hadn’t cuddled on the sofa for longer. None of it was okay.

His initial sadness soon grows into anger, irritation flaring every time he receives a text from Betty before he leaves work.

_At the library. Going to be a long session. Don’t wait up x_

She was actively avoiding him and their home, and as a result, the issues mounting between them. They needed to talk about what was happening, about their current situation, yet he never had the chance to bring it up with her. She was never home during the week and often spent her weekends at Veronica’s house, always under the guise of studying. But no one studied this much - not even Betty Cooper.

He catches her one Saturday morning, trying to leave for Veronica’s before he woke up. He can hear her moving around in the kitchen and he rushes out before she has a chance to leave. The look of surprise on her face tells him that she hadn’t anticipated this.

“Jug! I didn’t think you’d be up so early.”

He looks pointedly at the messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

“Going to Veronica’s?”

“Uh, yeah. We’ve got a test on Wednesday.”

“Another test, already?”

“Jug-“

“I’m surprised you need to study any more. The amount of hours you’ve been putting in lately - you must be exhausted.”

She shrugs, eyes falling to the floor. “Well, you know. This is an important time.”

“Betty.” Her eyes flicker up to his, teeth sunk into her bottom lip. “We need to talk about what’s going on here.”

“What do you mean?”

He scoffs. “What do _you_ mean? You can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed the distance between us! That you haven’t been actively avoiding me.”

“Jughead, that’s not-“

“Tell me you haven’t been avoiding me,” he demands. “Tell me that all of the nights spent at the library and weekends with Veronica are actually for studying and not because you don’t want to be in this house with me. With my father.”

Betty falls silent, throat bobbing as she swallows.

“I didn’t realize you felt this way,” Betty says quietly. “You should have told me you thought I was being distant. You could have-“

“You’re never here!” he yells, uncaring of waking up his sleeping father, who is currently stretched out across the couch. A frequent position for him lately. “When would I have had the chance to talk to you about this when you’re never around!”

“I don’t know what to do!” Betty suddenly shouts. “I don’t know how to be here, in this trailer. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you or what I’m supposed to do when you’re dad comes home drunk. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing and it’s driving me insane.”

“What are you talking about?” Jughead frowns. “You don’t need to _do_ anything. I can handle my dad on my own.”

Betty shakes her head. “You don’t get it, do you? I can’t just sit around and watch while you take care of your father and worry about what kind of state he’s going to be in when he gets home. This is all happening in my home, Jug, right in front of my eyes. And, what? I’m supposed to just sit back and pretend that it’s not?”

“I’m not saying that,” Jughead says. “But you don’t need to worry about my dad. I’ve been dealing with this for so long. I know what I’m doing.”

“But I do worry!” Betty exclaims, exasperated. “I hate seeing him like that - drunk and disoriented, crying on the couch. And I hate seeing you sad all the time. You’re so tense, wound up so tight. It’s horrible to see and I don’t know how to help you.”

Jughead laughs, humorlessly, his mood shifting. “Right. Of course. That’s what this is about.”

She frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“My _baggage_ , right? Has it become too much for you?”

Betty’s face pales. “Jughead... Don’t do this. Don’t twist my words.”

“What am I twisting, Betts? You said I had a lot of it. And now it’s making your life hell. That’s definitely not what you signed up for.”

“But I did, Jug,” she insists. “That’s what you do when you’re married. You take on your partner’s problems and you face them together. And I want to do that; I want to be there for you. I just don’t know how to be.”

“Oh, wow. Thank god you’re willing to deal with my problems!” he yells, mocking. “What an amazing feat - supporting your husband when he’s going through something. I think you’re ‘wife of the year’ award is in the mail.”

She scowls at him and she can feel the telltale prick of tears in her eyes. “Don’t be an asshole, Jug.”

His eyes narrow into slits. “Why don’t you just say what you really mean, Betty. You didn’t imagine marriage being like this and now you’re having second thoughts.”

Her lips part in shock. “No, no... You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“It’s okay, really. It must be so hard for you, having to deal with all of the drama that comes with being with me. I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been for you. How have you coped?”

An uncomfortable mix of anger and hurt builds inside her, and Betty knows she needs to get away before this escalates, before they say things they can’t take back.

She shakes her head, squares her shoulders. “I’m not doing this, Jug. You know I didn’t mean it like that. And _yes_ , these weeks have obviously been harder for you, but don’t act like it doesn’t affect me. I have to live with this now, too. And you won’t even talk to me about it!”

He grows quiet, gaze dropping, unable to meet her eye.

“I think I’m gonna stay at Veronica’s,” she says quietly, the fight draining from her. “I need to get out of here.”

“Yeah, right. Leave again. That makes sense,” he snaps but she doesn’t have it in her to retort. She hates fighting with him and she’s not about to do it any longer.

“I’m getting my stuff,” she tells him as she walks into their bedroom and grabs her backpack. “Come find me when you’ve stopped being a jerk.”

He sits slumped at the kitchen table as she packs, saying nothing. She hoists her backpack over her shoulder and pauses in front of him when she walks back through the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, just sits with his head down, plaintive.

She leaves without another word.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who read, commented and/or left kudos on my work this year. the last six months of posting fic have been so much fun and the response has been amazing.
> 
> oh, and merry christmas! <3


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you had a good christmas! or just enjoyed some time off if you don’t celebrate it
> 
> things are about to get rough...

Jughead gives Betty some space, an evening to vent to Veronica about their situation and let out her frustrations. He owes her that. But when the morning rolls around, Jughead is outside the Lodge residence, knocking on the door at 9am.

“She’s in my bedroom - upstairs, second door on the left,” Veronica says as soon as she opens the door. “I’m going to Archie’s, give you two some time alone.”

“Thanks, Ronnie. And not just for this but... for being there for her yesterday.”

“She’s my best friend and I want to see her happy. And _you,_ despite your protests, are also my friend- I want you to be happy, too.” She smiles sympathetically. “Go make things right with your wife.”

Betty is curled up in Veronica’s bed when he enters her bedroom, phone in hand as she scrolls through something. She looks up when he opens the door, eyebrows raising and lips parting in surprise.

“Jug,” she says softly.

He smiles weakly. “Hey, Betts.”

“What are you doing here?” she asks as she sits up, back resting against the headboard.

He takes a seat at the end of the bed. “I think we need to talk. I need to apologize.”

“Me, too,” she says automatically. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have avoided you. I should have told you how I was feeling.”

“We both did stupid things,” he reasons. “Some of the things I said last night - I’m so sorry, Betts. I know this stuff with my dad is hard and you just wanna help but...” He trails off, eyes falling to his lap. “I’m guess I’m embarrassed. I want to be good for you, give you the life you deserve, and living with my alcoholic father definitely isn’t a part of that.”

Betty reaches out to take his hand in hers.

“Juggie,” she sighs. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Everyone has stuff they have to deal with. God, I mean, have you met my parents? They’re not winning any parenting awards any time soon.” She adjusts her hand until her fingers are threaded through his. “I love you, Jug. And if loving you means I have to help take care of your father, then I’m happy to support you in any way I can.”

Jug releases a heavy breath and lifts his gaze to meet her eye.

“Can I kiss you? I really wanna kiss you.”

Her lips quirk. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

He cups her cheek in his hand as he presses his lips to hers in a soft peck that floods him with relief. Last night, as he had been lying in their bed, their fight replaying over and over in his head while the guilt swirled in his stomach, he had experienced genuine fear. _Would she leave him now?_ They had broken up in the past after a huge fight, when they had both said things they regret. But they were married now, so where did that leave them?

“I really think things will be better when we’re at college,” he says as he pulls away. “We’ll be out of this town, away from our parents. We’ll be independent. We can live like an actual husband and wife, no drunken dad’s around.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but until then, you need to talk to me, Juggie. I’m your wife - you’re supposed to share your problems with me, so we can face them together.”

He nods. “I know. And I will. It’s just... this is still hard for me, being open with my feelings. I need a little push sometimes.”

She pushes a lock of hair out of his face and smiles affectionately.

“I know you do.”

He smiles in return. “So will you come home now?”

“Of course, I will. Just give me thirty minutes - I need to get my stuff.”

She climbs out of the bed to gather her things but barely makes it two steps before Jughead catches her around the waist, one hand falling to grip her bare thigh. She smiles down at him as she stands between his parted knees, fingers linked behind his neck.

“I know what you’re thinking, Jones, and _no_ \- we’re not doing that here.”

His hand smoothes along her skin, stopping when his fingers slip just beneath the fabric of her shorts. He smirks up at her.

“Not even in the bathroom?”

As he hoists her up onto Veronica’s bathroom counter, he’s never been so appreciative of the Lodge’s excessive wealth. The bathroom is bigger than their bedroom in the trailer, and the large, ostentatious mirror above the counter allows him to watch them together as Betty’s legs wrap around his waist.

He removes her pajamas shorts quickly, wanting his hands on the smooth skin of her thighs. Betty places wet, sloppy kisses against his neck as his fingers reach down to tease her, readying her for him.

“Juggie, come on,” she gasps, unable to wait any longer after the weeks of distance between them.

He feels the same way, his desperation for her leaving him hard and impatient. He doesn’t even remove her underwear, just pushes the lace to the side before sliding inside.

The moans they release are loud in the open, tiled expanse of the room. They move together quickly, rhythmically, hips working fast and hands searching across skin. Their coming together is both a relief and the biggest rush they’ve experienced in a long time.

Betty uses her fingers to get herself off, her other hand curling tight around his hair as she comes. His hips falter as he quickly follows, moans muffled against the curve of her neck as he cums inside of her.

Betty’s fingers begin to comb through his hair as he comes down, boneless and tingly. He pulls back to kiss her, their mouths meeting in a hard, passionate kiss. Betty giggles against his lips, high on endorphins and their love. He grins, gaze flickering across her flushed face.

“What?”

“I can’t believe we just did that in V’s bathroom. She’s gonna kill me.”

He kisses her smile. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty returns to the trailer that afternoon, apology accepted and both of them determined not to make the same mistakes. Jughead knew that he needed to be honest with Betty and talk things through and Betty knew she would sometimes need to push Jughead in the right direction to get him to open up, and not avoid having difficult conversations. They were both willing to work on their issues for the sake of making their marriage work.

And it does work - for a little while.

Their situation is still difficult. FP continues drinking - some nights are worse than others - and taking care of him is an added pressure, on top of work, school and studying for finals. But Betty is there now, ready to help Jughead when he asks and listen to him when he wants to vent. Jughead feels lighter with her around; he likes having someone to support him and he loves that that person is Betty.

“You’re my rock, you know that?” he tells her one night as they lie in bed. He cups her cheek, thumb smoothing across the bone. “I don’t know if I could have handled this without you.”

She turns to press a kiss against his palm.

“I just wanna be there for you, Juggie. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re alone.”

For the most part, they are able to deal. They become more comfortable in their routine, spend time with their friends and Polly whenever they can, and with FP often at the Whyte Wyrm or passed out in his bedroom, they have plenty of time alone.

It’s two weeks after their fight that the bills start to arrive; demanding letters that they never even had to consider before, always taken care of by their parents. FP being off the wagon means he isn’t doing as many jobs for the Serpents - they don’t trust him when he’s drunk and he’s a possible liability when he’s hungover - and Jughead and Betty have to depend upon their income.

They both start working extra shifts, trying to fit in extra studying during their breaks, and often only seeing each other for a few minutes before they stumble into bed. It’s still not enough - they can’t physically work enough hours to pay their bills and do all of the things they want to do. And whenever they find time together, they always seem to fight.

“You didn’t even take your textbook with you today, Jug,” Betty reprimands. “You need to study. It’s important.”

“And so is keeping a roof over our heads!” he yells, exasperated. Couldn’t she see that he was trying his best to give them a good life? He knew their current situation wasn’t ideal but he’s trying to make it work, and sometimes things get left behind.

Betty sighs heavily. “I know you are. And I’m doing what I can, too. But we’re graduating soon - really soon. And I need you up there on that stage with me.”

Jughead doesn’t know what to say. He can’t insist that she’s just being dramatic. His grades were still okay but he was still a few credits behind, and it wouldn’t take much for him to be totally off track. Plus, he really didn’t want to go to summer school.

Jughead feels the fight leave him as he realizes Betty is just looking out for him. She always has his best interests in mind but sometimes it’s hard to remember that when he feels like such a failure. He told her they’d have a good life and this was all he could offer - long, over-worked days and arguments almost every night.

“I will be, Betts. You don’t need to worry about that.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

It becomes a regular part of their day - fighting in the morning before school, or during their lunch break, or after work when they both arrive home. It’s exhausting, another stressor in an increasingly chaotic life, and Betty isn’t sure how much she can take.

She approaches him one night with a suggestion. He’s lying out across their bed, arm thrown across his eyes. His hair is still wet from the shower and he feels warm and relaxed beneath her as she straddles his hips. He was soft like this, during the evening after he’d washed away the smell of work and was trying to relax. She hoped it would work in her favor.

“So it’s spring break next week,” she says as she settles her weight onto him.

His hands automatically reach out to grasp her hips. He raises one eyebrow. “And?”

“And I was thinking... we should go to the Hamptons with everyone to stay at Veronica’s vacation home.”

Jug frowns. “Why would we do that?”

She rolls her eyes. “Maybe because it would be _fun_. And it would be a nice break for us. We both need one.”

Irritation flickers across his face as he lifts Betty slightly. She climbs off his lap as he rises from the bed, stands with his back to her.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“I haven’t been _planning_ anything,” she defends herself, not liking the accusation in his tone. “I just told Veronica I’d talk to you, see if you wanted to go.”

Jughead turns to her, anger now evident on his face.

“ _Why_ would I wanna go, Betts? I have too much going on here. I can’t just leave and go to the Hamptons for a week!”

Betty blinks rapidly as she feels tears collect in her eyes. She had half-expected this reaction but she didn’t want him to yell at her.

She looks down at the duvet as she says, “I just thought we need a break. Or at least... _I_ need a break.”

“A break from what?” he snaps. “A break from _me_?”

“No, Jug! A break from _everything_.” She is yelling now, too, her own anger building. “Our lives revolve around school and work, and we hardly ever see each other. I thought it would be good to get away!”

“Well I can’t, Betty. Or have you forgotten about our jobs, or the bills that need to be paid, or my da-“

“Do _not_ bring your dad into this,” she retorts. “You’re going to college soon and you won’t be around to help him every time he comes home drunk. He needs to start taking care of himself!”

“It’s not that simple! He has a problem. There isn’t an overnight fix.”

“So what are you gonna do when you move to New York? Travel from the city back to Riverdale everyday just to make sure he’s okay?!”

Jughead falls silent. He doesn’t have a response; he really hasn’t given much though to how his dad would cope without him.

“I can’t keep doing this, Jughead,” Betty says quietly. “We never see each other and every time we do, we fight. It’s awful.”

“Then leave,” he snaps. “Run away to Veronica’s again. I’m sure she’ll let you crash at her house.”

“Do you really want that?” Betty cries, feeling rejected.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “You’re the one that needs a break.” He shakes his head. “Christ, it hasn’t even been six months and already you want to take a break.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t been feeling the same way,” she protests. “Things haven’t good between us lately.”

“Then maybe you really should go,” he responds, voice now emotionless.

Betty climbs off the bed and pulls her jeans on, throws her coat over Jughead’s shirt that she was wearing to sleep. As she slides her feet into her shoes, wiping furiously at the tears on her cheeks, Jughead asks, “Are you going there now?”

“ _No_ ,” she snaps. “But I am going out. I think we both need some space before we say things we can’t take back.”

She leaves without another word, slamming the door behind her. He hears the truck start up outside, the crunch of the ground beneath the tires as she pulls away, and falls back onto the bed, defeated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty places only the essentials into the shopping cart. Jughead had dinner at Pop’s most days and they didn’t have enough money for luxuries or treats. Usually she would write up a list with careful notation of the value of each item, but as she didn’t have one with her, she was doing her best to calculate the total as she shopped.

Math had never been a challenge for Betty, but as the memories of her fight with Jughead lingered fresh in her mind, she struggled to keep track of her spending. Maybe coming to the grocery store wasn’t the best idea but there weren’t many other places open at this time of night.

As she strolls down the produce aisle, she hears a familiar voice behind her. A voice she hasn’t heard in a little while.

“Betty?”

She pauses, spins around.

Her smile is weak, barely there. “Hey, dad.”

Her father visibly sags in what she thinks is relief as he smiles and immediately pulls her into his arms. She is stiff against him for a second before she slowly wraps her arms around his waist, relishing in the warmth. She needed a hug right now and who better to receive one from than her father.

“I’ve missed you,” he says against her hair before kissing her temple.

She pulls back to give him a watery smile.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

He pushes her hair back from her face, his eyes flickering over her, taking her in.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned, and she can only imagine what she looks like. No make-up, blotchy skin, swollen eyes. Not exactly the picture of health and happiness.

“I’m fine. Things have just been... harder than I expected,” she admits.

He smiles sadly and continues to brush her hair from her face. It’s a comforting motion, one that makes her feel like a little girl again, ready to fall asleep in her father’s arms.

“Why haven’t you called?” she asks quietly, emotion making her voice scratchy and weak. “I haven’t seen or heard from you since the day Mom kicked me out.”

He actually looks ashamed, an emotion she’s never seen on her dad’s face before.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I know your mom overreacted but we were both so angry about what you did and you know how she can be...” He sighs. “It’s no excuse, but I really didn’t know how to fight your mother on this. Her mind was made up. And then, when you didn’t contact us, I assumed that you were doing okay; that you didn’t need us.”

Betty sniffles. “I’ll always need you, dad. You should have known that. You should have called me.”

“I know, I know.” He pulls her against his chest again. “I’m so sorry, Betty. I messed up.”

She cries in his arms, staining the fabric of his shirt with little care. They must make a strange picture for any fellow shopper walking by - a father and daughter hugging and crying in the produce aisle, late at night. But she’s not really concerned with how she looks right now. She just wants to enjoy this small comfort.

“Come home,” he murmurs. “If things aren’t working between you and Jughead, you can come back. We’ll help you figure it out.”

Betty tenses up. She doesn’t know what to say. On the one hand, she’d love nothing more than to return to the familiarity of her childhood home but on the other, she’s not sure if she’s ready to face her mother again.

And Jughead - she couldn’t just leave him. They’d made a commitment, he was her _husband_.

“I can’t do that, dad. I live with Jughead now, we have a life together,” she argues. “And besides - I don’t think Mom wants me to come home.”

“I’ll talk to your mother, make her see sense. I should have done it when she made you leave.”

Betty shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t leave him.” She wipes away a falling tear. “I _love_ him.”

Hal doesn’t argue but his eyebrows pinch together with worry as he looks at her. She was offering so little information about her life. All kinds of assumptions could be going through his head.

“Well the offer is there, Betty. You can always come home, if that’s what you want.”

Betty nods. “Thank you.”

He takes a deep breath. “Right. Well, I need to head home before your mother starts to worry.” He presses a kiss against her forehead. “Remember what I said, Betty. We love you and we only want you to be happy and safe.”

Betty wraps her dad up in another hug, not trusting her voice to respond verbally.

She abandons her shopping cart as soon as her dad has left the aisle. Locked inside her car, she begins to cry, sobs wracking through her body. A mix of emotions pulls at her, all at war with each other. She was so _tired_ , unable to cope with school and their money problems and the constant fighting. But she was also angry - at her father for being so weak; at Jughead for twisting her words and making her feel so alone; at herself for being so naive.

The tears eventually subside and she takes a few deep breaths before she starts up the truck and makes the drive home. The lights are still on when she pulls up outside of the trailer. She lets herself in, surprised to see two plates of mac and cheese on the small kitchen table to her left.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be back,” Jughead says as he enters the kitchen.

She turns to him. “I went to the grocery store but I was too tired to actually shop.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue and she doesn’t stop to wonder why she hasn’t told him about her father.

Jughead nods, eyes downcast. He looks young and strangely vulnerable, his beanie gone and his face withdrawn with sadness.

“Well I made dinner. I know it’s not exactly fine dining but it’s all we had. And I make a mean mac and cheese,” he says with a small smile.

She laughs softly despite the pain she’s still feeling. “You sure do.”

He steps closer, cautious, until his hands are close enough to grasp her waist. His eyes close as he touches his forehead to hers.

“I’m sorry, Betts. I acted like an asshole. You do deserve a break and...” He pulls back to meet her eye. “If you want to go to the Hamptons you’ll get no argument from me. I want you to go and have fun.”

She places her hands against his chest, lips quirked up in a sad smile. “You want me to go without you?”

He shrugs it off. “I need to stay here and work, but I don’t mind. You shouldn’t miss out because of me.”

Betty wonders if this is the time for her to be selfless, to agree to stay home and be with him no matter how badly she wants to go.

The more selfish part of her doesn’t argue with him. She wants to go and have fun with her friends, to be a regular eighteen year old for a little while. She’d be a lot happier if he came, too - he needs time off as much as she does - but she knows she isn’t about to turn down this chance.

She leans up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“I love you, Juggie.”

He smiles small and tight with sad eyes.

“I love you, too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The day before Betty leaves for the Hamptons, FP sits them both down in the living room. He looks terrible, skin sallow and deep purple shadows beneath his eyes, but he doesn’t look hazy or unfocused as he always seemed to recently. It takes Betty a couple of seconds to figure out why - he wasn’t drinking.

“I know I’ve been a mess these past couple of months and I’ve made things real hard for you, but I need you to know that this is the end. I’m not going to fuck things up for you anymore. I’m cleaning up.”

She sees Jughead’s knee start to bounce, his telltale sign of irritation. She wonders how many times he’s heard these words from his dad, had this exact conversation. She decides to respond before a fight can start.

“What’s brought this on? Why now?” she asks.

“Jughead’s mom, actually,” he answers, surprising them both. “She called yesterday, to ask if I’d signed the papers, and she sounded so... _disappointed_ when she realized I had been drinking.” He pauses, scrubs a hand across his unshaven face. “I don’t know, something just clicked. I saw that I was doing exactly what she hated; the thing that made her leave me. Guess the irony was too much.”

Betty knew Jughead was feeling both doubt and exasperation following his dad’s announcement, but this was a step in the right direction. The following day, before she leaves, she kisses him softly, frames his face between her hands.

“He’s trying, Jug. I know you’ve been through this a hundred times before but we have to hope that this is going to work. So please, for me, can you give him the benefit of the doubt?”

A beat, and then he nods. “I will. For you.”

She kisses him one last time before they hear the blast of Veronica’s horn outside.

The drive to the Hamptons was just over two hours and Betty feels lighter immediately. In Veronica’s convertible, roof down and wind blowing through her hair as she and Kevin sing along to the radio in the backseat, the anxiety and troubles plaguing Betty’s life seem to melt away.

It isn’t until she arrives at the Lodge vacation home that the guilt begins to creep up on her. She sends Jughead a text.

_Just arrived. Miss you already_

He doesn’t respond until late that night, when Betty is two mimosas deep and feeling tipsy.

_Sorry, just got home. Miss you, too. Have fun!_

She doesn’t want to dwell on her feelings of guilt. Jughead had told her to go, that he would be okay on his own. And she was allowed to have some fun. She was eighteen, in her final year of high school. And while she and Jughead were trying to make ends meet, their friends were partying every weekend and getting ready for college.

Going away for spring break was totally normal and she needed some normality.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They spend their days lying around the pool, sunbathing and listening to music, and their evenings making use of Veronica’s parents liquor cabinet and chilling out. One night they head to the beach and sit around a fire with some of the other teenagers in town, drinking rum and relaxing. But most nights they stay in, playing cards and watching TV.

It’s an easygoing break, unlike some of the experiences their classmates were having. But Betty had no desire to get wasted all week and she’s happy to just be here with her best friends.

She keeps Jughead updated with pictures and texts but she doesn’t contact him too much. She doesn’t want to make him feel bad, make him wish he was here more than he already does. And there’s a small part of her - one that she struggles to admit exists - that is happy for the time apart. They needed some space.

Their fourth night in, she FaceTimes Jughead in her guest room as the others drink and chat outside.

“Oh, Juggie. You look exhausted. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Even on the tiny screen the bags beneath his eyes are visible and she can see the slow blink of his eyes as he fights to keep them open.

“I’m okay, Betts. Really. It’s just been a long week. But I’ve got a day off on Saturday.”

She attempts a smile but it’s weak. He had been working long hours during the break, trying to get some extra money together while he had the chance. Saturday would be his only day off during the whole break and she hated that he was going to be spending it alone.

“I miss you. It would be so much better if you were here.”

He chuckles. “That’s sweet, Betts, but you don’t need to say that to make me feel better. I know you’re having a great time with everyone.”

Betty doesn’t deny it but she meant what she said. She does miss him.

Their conversation weighs on her mind as she re-joins the others on the deck. It’s not until they’re all going to bed that she makes her decision.

“V, I know this is short notice but it’s really a last minute decision. I’m leaving tomorrow night. I’m gonna catch the bus home.”

Veronica’s tipsy, happy demeanour falls. “Are you serious? But we still have two days left!”

“I know, and I hate to do this, but I have to go. Jug is all alone on his only day off this week and I want to be with him.”

Veronica sighs and shakes her head. “I should have seen this coming. I knew you’d feel guilty about leaving him in Riverdale.”

Betty doesn’t argue, just apologizes. “I’m sorry, V. I have to go back.”

She surprises him at Pop’s as his shift ends, sits on a stool by the bar as she waits for him leave the kitchen, apron in hand. A huge smile stretches across his face when he sees her.

“What are you doing here?”

She shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I decided to come home early. Had something more important than beach parties and mimosas waiting for me.”

He kisses her hard and pulls her out of the diner and into his car. They drive down to the river to catch the sunset and make love in the bed of his truck, hushed whispers and panting breaths in the still, night air.

When they return to the trailer Jughead is more affectionate than he has been in weeks, wrapping his arms around her waist as she makes hot chocolate in the kitchen and pressing kisses to her neck as they curl up on the couch and watch TV.

The short break had definitely been good for them, she thinks as she relaxes in his arms, but she was also glad she had decided to come home early. She didn’t want to miss out on this time together. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FP’s decision to get clean sticks but it comes with new challenges.

The Serpents are still wary of giving him jobs - Jughead wasn’t the only one who had heard this all before - and in the first couple of weeks, he is unable to do anything, the withdrawals making him sick and anxious.

With little money still coming in, the peace they had found over spring break disappears, taking them two steps back. They’re fighting over the same things once again. Except this time, Betty has an out. She has a way to get away from all of this. And Jughead doesn’t know it.

She comes home one night after a particularly tiring shift at the garage to find Jughead on the couch, head in his hands and a letter in front of him.

“Jug? What’s going on?” she asks as she sits beside him.

“They’re shutting our water off,” he mumbles into his hands and Betty freezes, not sure if she’s heard him right.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious.” He pulls his hands away and she can now see the redness around his eyes, blending with the heavy shadows. He looks as miserable as she feels. “We won’t have any water from tomorrow. And I’m not sure we’ve got enough money to get it back on again.”

“Well what are we gonna do?” Betty asks, panic rising in her throat. They’d been struggling for a while now but she’d thought they were managing, keeping themselves afloat. They had food - although sparse - and they had all of their utilities. Except now, they didn’t.

“I have no fucking idea.” He turns to her, expression wary. “Could you pick up a few extra shifts? Just this week?”

“I can’t, Jughead,” she replies immediately, irritated by even the suggestion. He knew that wasn’t possible. “I don’t have time for more shifts, I’m already working as much as I can!”

“Well so am I,” he retorts, close to yelling. “But maybe if you weren’t studying so much-“

“Don’t even go there,” she yells, cutting him off. “I’m not risking my school career this close to graduation. And besides, if you’re dad could just-“

“He’s _sick_ , Betty. It’s his own fault but he is sick. And the Serpents don’t want him around when he’s like that.”

“Well then maybe he should get himself a real job, a _normal_ job. One that doesn’t involve being in a gang.”

She walks away then, throwing her bag onto the kitchen table and pulling her overalls off as she enters their bedroom. She needed a shower to clean off the grease and clear her head.

“I knew this would happen,” Jughead yells from behind her and Betty’s eyes close slowly as she exhales harshly through her nose. This fight clearly wasn’t over. “I knew that you’d resent him eventually.”

“I don’t _resent_ him, Jughead. But there are three people living here and only two of them are keeping a roof over our heads. I’m allowed to be mad about it.”

“Fine,” Jughead spits, ignoring her. “Then you resent _me_. You regret ever marrying me!” Betty spins towards him, shocked, but before she can say anything he is yelling again. “I can see it in your eyes, Betts. I have for months. And then when you came back over spring break you were so fucking happy - happier than you’ve ever been since you moved in with me.”

She can’t deny it because she had been happy - happy to be a normal senior, partying and having fun with her friends. But _he_ had also been part of that happiness. The best part of her week had been when she returned to Riverdale and they spent their evening at the river, wrapped up in each other.

As she stands in front of him, watching his narrowed eyes focus on her and his chest heave up and down with adrenaline and anger, she realizes that they aren’t those teenagers at the river anymore. They hadn’t been for a long time. That night had been an anomaly, an unusual occurrence after weeks spent fighting and snapping at each other. Almost all semblance of a happy relationship had gone and this was what they were left with.

“I saw my dad,” she says, voice quiet but firm. “He said I can move back home.”

Jughead takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

“He said he’d talk to my mom and I could go back.”

He’s quiet for a beat, a storm of emotions flickering across his face before he settles into anger once again, his eyes narrowing into slits.

“Then _go_! Go running back to your mom and dad. You clearly don’t want to be here - don’t wanna be married to me. So leave!”

Betty turns her back to him before he can see the tears welling in her eyes. She hears him leave the room as she picks up her phone, texts Veronica.

_Can you come pick me up? I’ve had a big fight with Jug._

She grabs a large box from the corner of the room - one of the boxes she had used to move in - and begins throwing clothes into it, any item she can find. She knows she won’t be able to get everything. She’ll have to ask Archie if he can come with her tomorrow to pick up the rest of her stuff.

“Betty?” she hears from the doorway but she doesn’t turn around, just throws another sweater into the box. “Betty, stop,” she hears this time, closer. “You can’t do this. You can’t really leave.”

“Well that’s what you wanted, right?” Her voice is choked with tears but she doesn’t care. “You got your wish, Jughead. I’m out of here.”

“Please don’t do this,” he begs, his own tears starting to fall. “I didn’t mean what I said, I was just angry.”

She doesn’t say anything, continues to pack. She takes whatever shoes she can find and throws them inside, picks up large handfuls of clothes from the closet.

As she closes the box up she feels his arms slide around her waist, pulling her close, his head dropping onto her shoulder. He buries his face in her neck, his tears soaking her skin.

“Please don’t leave me,” he murmurs against her. “Things have just been so hard. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.”

Tears fall hot and fast down her face and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as she tries to hold it together. She wants nothing more than to turn in his arms, to wrap herself up in him and tell him it will be okay, that everything will work itself out.

But she’s not sure that it will anymore.

She places her hands over his, wrapped tight around her stomach, and feels his soft, smooth skin for just a second before she pulls them away, stepping out of his embrace.

Outside, Veronica’s horn beeps and Betty lifts the box into her arms. She pauses in the doorway and looks over at him. He stands, still, in the center of the room, head hung low and hair obscuring his face from view.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. When we’ve both calmed down... we need to talk.”

As soon as she’s inside Veronica’s car she breaks down. Face buried in her hands, the cool metal of her wedding rings presses against her skin, a reminder of what she could be about to lose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her dad is waiting at the door for her when Veronica pulls up outside of her house. She had called him when she left the trailer, offering no details, and he had told her to come over without hesitation.

Betty buries her face in his chest as his arms wrap around her shoulders, fresh tears falling as she cries against him. She feels the pressure of Veronica’s hand against her back as she leaves but Betty barely manages to choke out a goodbye.

Hal ushers her inside, bringing her into the warmth of her childhood living room, a place she hasn’t seen in months. Her mother is waiting for her by the couch, arms folded across her chest and mouth a thin, harsh line.

“Please don’t say ‘I told you so’,” Betty says quietly, struggling to meet her mother’s eye. “I was...” She swallows. “I’m in love with him, Mom. You of all people should know what it’s like to make a mistake because you’re in love.” She lifts her gaze, finally meeting her mother’s eyes, “You have to understand doing something too young.”

Her mother steps closer until they are inches apart. She can smell the floral scent of her perfume, and despite the current state of their relationship, warmth spreads through her at the familiarity. In this moment, she needs her mother.

“I do understand, Betty,” she replies, voice calm. “But I expected better from you. You’re so much smarter than I ever was. I couldn’t understand why you’d do something so reckless.”

“I thought I was doing it for the right reasons,” she admits. “But now I’m not sure.” Softly, she asks, “Do you hate me?”

Alice sighs. “Of course I don’t hate you.” She pulls her into a tight hug, the tightest they’ve shared in years. “I love you, always,” she murmurs against her hair. “And I’m going to help you get through this.”

 


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end, i hope you’re all sticking with me...
> 
> a big thank you to everyone who has read this story, commented, left kudos. & a special mention for the people who really supported it on tumblr. i love you guys!
> 
> oh, and happy new year!

At the sound of the door creaking open, Jughead buries his face further into the pillow. He feels the bed dip beside him and then the comforting pressure of his father cupping his head.

“What happened, kid? Where did she go?”

“Back to her parents. We had a huge fight,” he mumbles into the pillow, wrapping his arms tighter around it. It still smelled like her. “I think it’s over.”

“For good?”

“I don’t know.”

FP sighs heavily. His hand passes through Jughead’s hair before he rises from the bed.

“I’m making breakfast. It’ll be ready in ten.”

Jughead reluctantly drags himself out of bed, the smell of bacon too much to resist even when he feels like his world is falling apart. FP is sat at the table when he enters the kitchen, a plate of food in front of him and another in front of the empty chair.

“Eat up, kid. Some food will be good for you.”

They eat in silence, the first meal his father has made for him in years. His head feels heavy, like a hangover without the drinking, and his throat burns with unshed tears as he swallows the food.

“I know she’s it for you,” his dad says quietly, plate now empty. “I know you’re never gonna love anyone the way you love her. But marriage is hard, Jug. Really hard.”

Jughead doesn’t respond, turns to stare out of the window. He thinks he has a pretty good understanding of just how hard it can be.

“For some reason adding a little piece of paper to a relationship can really fuck things up. Especially when you’re not ready for that commitment. But... you have made that commitment and now you need to honor it.”

Jughead’s brow furrows. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not exactly the greatest role model and I have no business telling you how to live your life or handle your marriage, but I do know how to destroy good things. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

Jughead’s eyes slide over to his father.

“You need to talk to your girl.”

“I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.”

“Then wait until she does,” is his immediate reply. “Things between you and Betty got messy - _really_ messy. And I know I played a big part in that, and I am so sorry. But you can’t throw away what you have because of me, and I won’t let you repeat my mistakes. It’s not fair to you or to her.”

Jughead’s gaze drops as he blinks rapidly, trying to hold back tears.

“I really do love her, dad.”

“I know you do, Jug. And she loves you, too. Anyone can see that.”

As Jughead showers, washing away the pain and upset of the night before, FP makes a phone call to a girl he once knew and a woman he’s not sure he knows at all. There was a chance - a big chance - that she was going to laugh in his face but he was doing it anyway. He’d had a hand in this mess and now he had to try and fix it.

“Good morning, Cooper residence.”

“Ali, it’s me - please just listen.” He takes a deep breath, anticipating a dial tone as she hangs up. Instead, there is silence. “I know you don’t agree with what they did but I’m asking you, please, to talk to Betty. These kids are miserable without each other - they need to make things right.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty brushes powder across her face, hoping to cover up some of the damage after a night spent sobbing in her mother’s arms. Her reflection was unsettling; she looked exhausted, a culmination of the last few months and a night of fitful sleep.

She looks up as her mother knocks on the door and enters her bedroom. She takes a seat at the end of her bed, a slight and sad smile on her lips.

“FP just called.”

“He did?” Betty swallows down the sudden emotion that rises in her throat. “Did he mention Jughead? Did he say how he was doing?”

“He’s upset, a little lost. A lot like you.” Her tone is gentle, careful. “He said he already misses you.”

Betty looks down at her lap, watches her hands curl into fists. Guilt weighs heavy in the pit of her stomach as she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, struggling not to cry. She’d already cried so much; she didn’t know how much more she could take.

“You need to see him, Betty. I can go with you, if that’s what you want, but you need to talk to him.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” she cries. “I don’t know how to have this kind of conversation.”

“Well you need to figure it out,” Alice says matter-of-factly. She’d consoled her the night before, had smothered her in comfort and affection. But now her daughter needed some tough love. “You made a commitment, Betty; a very adult decision. And now you need to act like an adult and face the consequences of that decision.”

Betty looks up at her, body tensing.

“Mom, please don’t do thi-“

“I’m not trying to start a fight,” Alice assures her, voice level. “I’m trying to help you. Because as much as I disapprove of what you did, that doesn’t make it go away. And it doesn’t just affect you - it affects Jughead, too. So you need to talk to him and figure things out. Together.”

There’s a pause before Betty nods, accepting her mother’s advice. She knew it was the right thing to do. She couldn’t keep running from her problems.

“Could you... could you give me a ride?”

“Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jughead is slumped on the couch when FP lets her in. He hadn’t even looked surprised when he opened the door and saw her standing on the other side.

“I’m really glad you came over.”

She smiles tightly, not quite able to meet his eye. She had abandoned his son last night, left him crying and heartbroken while she ran back to the safety of her parents. She didn’t like herself all that much right now and she couldn’t understand why he would either.

“Juggie,” Betty murmurs as she enters the living room.

Jughead’s head snaps over at the sound of her voice and he stands quickly, body language nervous and twitchy.

“Betty. What are you-“

She throws herself at him before he can finish his sentence, her arms wrapping around his neck as a sob leaves her mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she cries against him, face buried in the curve of his neck. “I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have ran away. I’m so sorry.”

His comfort is immediate, his right hand smoothing across her back as he wraps his left around her neck, pulling her tighter against him.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, lips pressed to her ear. “It’s okay.”

“We’ll give you some space,” Alice says as she pulls FP out of the trailer and Jughead offers them a grateful smile before they close the door behind them.

He pulls away from Betty’s embrace, his hands immediately reaching up to cup her swollen, tear-stained face.

“I love you,” he declares, voice low but firm. “So much.”

“I love you, too,” she says softly, eyes glassy. “I do, I really love you. But...”

“But what?” he murmurs, fear rising, sending his body cold.

“But I don’t know if it’s enough.”

His instinct is to argue with her and tell her she’s wrong but he can’t. She’s only voicing thoughts that he had also had. She was always so much braver than him.

He presses his forehead to hers as a long exhale escapes him. His thumbs massage small circles into the soft skin behind her ears. Wisps of hair, loose for once and wavy, tickle his skin. Her scent -  clean and floral - surrounds him, lovely and familiar. Every inch of her was delicate and soft, and he couldn’t imagine her ever not being _his_.

He would always be hers.

“Sit with me,” she requests quietly, pulling him down onto the sofa.

She takes his hands in hers as she sits beside him, her fingers locked tight around his. His eyes flicker constantly across her face, as if memorizing her. She could feel the tension in his body and she knew exactly what he was thinking - _this is the end_. Except, she really, really hoped it wasn’t.

“We aren’t ready for this, Jug. We never were,” she says, trying to sound strong. All she wanted to do was cry but she knew she had to take the lead here. “I wanted to be married to you _so bad_ but we had no real plan. We were improvising, trying to make things work, until we couldn’t anymore.”

Jughead sighs, nods. “You’re right... I don’t like it but... I know you’re right.” He brushes his hand through his hair, tugs at it in frustration. “God, I’ve made such a mess of things.”

“No, no.” She tightens her grip on his hands. “We _both_ made this decision and we were doing it for the right reasons. It was just... too soon.”

His mouth quirks up into a sad smile as he reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. She’s never seen him like this - so soft and devastated all at once. It’s breaking her heart.

“I really, really want you to be my wife,” he tells her softly, hand now cupping her face. “But I’m in no position to be someone’s husband. Not right now.”

Betty reaches up to press his palm against her cheek, her eyes falling shut, relishing in his touch. Tears sting behind her lids, spilling down her cheeks as she opens her eyes. She leans forward to press a salty kiss to his lips.

“I love you. That won’t ever change.”

“Me, too,” he murmurs before he captures her lips with hers.

They sit together in the quiet, Betty cocooned in his arms as she focuses on the steady sound of his breathing. She looks down at their linked hands, thumb brushing across the band adorning his finger.

“So, where do we go from here?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_one month later_

Betty clinks her milkshake against Jughead’s before taking a long sip. Their joined hands rest on the table, fingers slotted in the spaces in between. She was trying to stay positive and treat this lunch like a celebration but it was hard. Especially when she caught the forlorn looks he was throwing her way when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“A toast to quick divorces, I guess. That was surprisingly painless,” Jughead says as he slides a French fry through ketchup. “I, mean, the process. The divorce... well, that was pretty fucking painful,” he says, tone joking but eyes sadly serious.

“I can’t say I ever saw myself getting married and divorced in less than a year.” She tries to make it sound like a tease, to keep things light, but it falls flat. She knows they’ve done it for the right reasons but it was still the most heartbreaking things she’s ever experienced. “It’s not forever, Juggie,” she says quietly, tightening her grip on his hand.

His smile is wistful, unshed tears filling his blue eyes.

“I guess I just never thought I’d be divorcing _you_.” He shrugs, eyes downcast. “I always thought that if we got married... That would be it. We’d always be together.”

“We’ll get there eventually,” she tells him instantly, confidently. The words are both a promise and a fact. “When we’re both ready. Because you’re ‘it’ for me, Juggie. And I know you feel the same way.”

And they do get there. When they’re twenty-four, and they have an apartment, and a dog, and two college degrees between them, they’ll get married in Betty’s parent’s backyard, Archie and Veronica witnessing them as they had once before and their parents standing by their sides. And this time they’ll be ready; more than ready.

Jughead lifts their joined hands and presses a kiss against her now bare ring finger. Beneath their shirts, on thin silver chains, lie their wedding rings; precious and close to their hearts.

“You’re right,” he murmurs against her skin. “And I can’t wait.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty presses her ear to Jughead’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart within. The sun casts them in golden light, low in the sky as the day draws to a close. Jughead presses a kiss against her hair, the soft breeze that passes over them rustling the loose strands of her ponytail and the grass beneath them.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Betty says, staring out across Sweetwater River.

“It is,” he agrees. “I think I’ll miss it when we’re in New York.”

They were graduating in two weeks. And thanks to Jughead quitting his job at Pop’s and working his ass off to raise his grades, he would be standing on the stage with her, cheering her on as she delivered her valedictorian speech.

“I think it’ll be good for us - getting the proper college experience,” Betty muses and Jughead hums in agreement.

They had talked for a long time that day Betty came to the trailer. They had been reluctant to admit that they thought divorce was the best option - it seemed so _final_ , like they were truly ending things even though they had every intention of staying together. But it was the right decision. They needed to take things easy, bring back some of the lightness to their relationship. Things had gotten too heavy, too intense.

Alice had agreed to speak to an attorney about their options and with both sides willing and amicable, the process had been reasonably fast and easy. It had been both a heavy weight and a relief. But the end of their marriage was just one thing they had to discuss.

They wanted to be together; there was no one else for them, no one they would love like they loved each other. But after the dissolution of their marriage certificate they had to make a choice about the best way to approach their relationship. Veronica, ever insightful, had had the best suggestion.

“Just act like regular eighteen year olds.”

Betty blinked. “What do you mean?”

She had shrugged, taken a sip of her chocolate shake as she contemplated her next words.

“You two have been so wrapped up in this intense, way-too-mature relationship for months now. It’s like you were trying to be thirty year olds when you’re still just teenagers. You need to chill and act like the college students you’re about to be.”

When they considered it, she was right. They had spent so long trying to be their interpretation of functioning adults that they had forgotten how to be teenagers.

Moving into dorms seemed like a logical step. They were determined to have a real college experience and dorms were a good starting point.

They’d been placed in separate buildings that were close to one other - they would still see each other all the time but they wouldn’t be too close. It was a welcomed change. They had both agreed that living together had been a disaster but they were still willing to try again in the future. Maybe in their sophomore year, when college wasn’t so new and daunting, and they knew the city better.

Betty feels excited as she thinks about their future. They’d spent so long in a bubble; their life and their drama and their problems entirely contained in that trailer. But now they were free to truly make a life for themselves - a life they had chosen - and Betty is practically giddy over all of the things to come.

She hopes that New York will be a new beginning for them, a step in the right direction, towards a marriage that truly feels right and makes them happy.

Jughead brushes her hair back from her temple, his lips skimming a path across her hair line, pulling her from her thoughts.

“I have something for you.”

She looks up at him, surprised. “You do?”

“Let’s call it an early graduation present.” They both sit up as he reaches for his messenger bag. “When my dad started working again I took the money I had left over from my shifts at Pop’s and decided to get you something,” he explains as he sifts through his things until he’s found the gift. “It isn’t much... nothing fancy. But I want you to have it.”

He hands her a small, square box, a nervous smile on his face. Betty stares down at the box, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. It looked like the kind of box that contained an engagement ring but that didn’t make sense...

“Open it,” he murmurs.

She snaps out of it, lifting the lid instead of staring at it, perplexed. Nestled inside is a small, silver ring with a rose in the center, the flower forged out of the metal of the band. It’s beautiful, simple, delicate.

“It’s a promise,” Jughead says, taking her hand in his. “I know we already have our rings but I wanted something new - something to define this new stage in our lives. It’s a promise that one day we’ll get married again and we’ll do it right this time.”

Betty smiles, eyes glassy and heart clenching in her chest.

“It’s perfect, Juggie. I love it.”

He slides the ring onto her right hand, an unconscious smile tugging at his lips as he stares down at the ring. It was a simple design, one that few would know the meaning behind, and instead of feeling like a physical weight that represents the too-soon commitment they made, it really feels like a promise; light and full of possibilities.

Their lips meet, sweet and passionate, practiced and familiar, but still so good. His tongue slips past her lips, touches hers, and no matter how many times they do this Betty will always feel tingly, electric, when they kiss.

She’s going to feel that way for the rest of her life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there was previously a long authors note here, anticipating some backlash, but i should have known you guys would be nothing but lovely! thanks for the love and thanks for reading <3


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